Grief
by sandydragon
Summary: After Gaara's death, the fourth kazekage and Sasori mourn for him. Sequel to A Heavenly Reunion


Takeo watched silently from the other side of the village as Yashamaru detonated himself. Darn that man. Even as he died he managed to spite his brother in law one last time. His orders had been to test the boy, not to blow himself up. The last thing the village needed was even more death and property damage. With a shaky sigh of relief, the kazekage noted that Shukaku showed no signs of awakening. It had been a colossal pain to evacuate the village, but at least that hadn't interfered with the plan.

Once the smoke from the explosion fully cleared, it became apparent that something was wrong. The child wasn't moving. With a frown, Takeo barked out an order to begin letting people reenter the village in twenty minutes. Just in case Gaara was still conscious, he had to avoid letting his jutsu be seen. Although he had been able to see the event clearly, nobody had any idea what Yashamaru had said before making his explosive exit from the world of the living. If trouble arose, it would be far easier to deal with it in person.

Takeo eventually made his way to the rooftop after taking extra precautions to make his approach as unnoticeable as possible. The smell of blood and death permeated the air. All that was left of Yashamaru was a charred headband, a splatter of blood, and a nagging sense that something had gone very wrong. The boy still had not moved. Worse, the sand didn't even twitch as he came closer to check for signs of life. It was then that the kazekage noticed the cause of the child's stillness: his neck had been broken.

Unbelieving, the man scooped the limp corpse into his arms. No. This wasn't right. This wasn't supposed to happen. This couldn't be true. The kazekage tried every method he knew to dispel any genjutsu that could be causing such a heart wrenching scenario to no avail. Well, the council had better be happy now. They had wanted peace and they would have it. All it had cost was one life brought to an abrupt end. Now the villagers could walk the streets without fearing that a wave of sand would splatter their remains against buildings at a moment's notice. Everyone would be safe and hopefully happier. Why, then, was Takeo crying as he carried the body of the now former host away from the scene of what would bring the majority of the village relief?

After all of the villagers had safely returned to their homes and begun rejoicing at the supposed demon spawn's death, Takeo tried in vain to find someone who would prepare Gaara's body for a proper burial. He didn't deserve to live they said, so why should they treat him well in death? Yashamaru would be easy to take care of since he didn't really have any remains to speak of, but Gaara was another story. His body would need extensive treatment to prevent (or at least slow down) the rotting process.

At least the kazekage already owned a suitable burial plot. There was a spot next to Karura's grave that would serve nicely. The child would be closer to her in death than he had been for all but the very beginning of his life. The kazekage shuddered at the alternative. There was no way anyone would even consider selling a suitable plot inside the village for the burial. If the kazekage didn't already have one ready, Gaara probably would have been interred somewhere out in the desert, lost forever.

As a last resort, Takeo tried to track down Chiyo and enlist her assistance. Still no luck. The old hag was nowhere to be found. All Takeo could locate was one note left outside Chiyo's residence. Judging from the number of expletives and gory threats, she already knew about the situation and was far too furious to be of any help. Unless, of course, the kazekage suddenly gained a desire to die in an exceedingly agonizing manner. That much she was still willing to do. For now, Takeo would have to pass on that offer. Just because Baki always made sure Temari and Kankuro were well taken care of and the council members certainly believed they could run the village without his help didn't mean he was ready to die just yet.

By nightfall, Takeo was just about to undertake the unpleasant task of preparing the corpse himself. However, he was stopped right outside of his own home by a man in a black cloak with red clouds on it. A long metallic tail protruded from the back end of the cloak, slowly swaying back and forth behind the man. Although his face was partially obscured, Takeo could hear the man's raspy voice perfectly clearly.

"I heard you were looking for someone to prepare body for a funeral."

The man's bluntness surprised Takeo. Nonetheless he had no choice but to take this opportunity. Although he could technically do the necessary preparations himself, it would be better to get a professional to help him. Besides, Takeo didn't think he could stand looking at the results of his unfortunate decision for much longer without locking himself in his bedroom and begging for Karura's forgiveness until his voice gave out. He had failed his wife. She had entrusted her frailest child's life to him and he had thrown it away. Takeo shoved his guilt ridden thoughts aside for the time being.

"Yes. He died last night. I'll pay whatever you want for the best job you can do."

"Normally, that would be very expensive, but, seeing as this is a child and he has had quite a tragic demise, I think you have paid enough as it is. Follow me."

With that, the man began leading the way to what was presumably his workshop with all of the tools and chemicals he would need. Seeing no other alternative, Takeo was forced to follow him. Soon however, he began to regret his decision as the man led him into one of the seedier areas of the village. Many of the buildings had broken or boarded up windows and the air was so thick with the stench of alcohol and vomit that Takeo soon found himself breathing through his nose. Many less than trustworthy looking individuals turned to look at the duo as they passed, nodding to the cloaked figure and sneering at the increasingly nervous kazekage trailing him. Takeo repeatedly tried to protest, but it felt lie something was clamping his jaws shut. If he didn't know any better, he would also say that his feet felt like they were being pulled forward by invisible strings. Takeo was extremely relieved when his guide finally halted in front of one of the somewhat nicer looking houses.

"He should be all set by the end of the week. Se you then"

Once Takeo handed over Gaara's body, the man quickly retreated into his house and locked the door behind him before the kazekage could have any second thoughts.

—-

Once he was absolutely certain that the kazekage was long gone, Sasori turned his attention to the frail bundle in his arms. He had just returned to the village after an absence spanning a little over six years to find this situation sprung upon him. Wonderful. Of course the apartment couldn't have been prepared for him by his sleeper agents any sooner. Of course the rest of the Akatsuki couldn't let him depart for his intelligence gathering mission even a single day early. If they had, he might have actually had a chance at being happy. Typical. Sasori had finally convinced Konan to let him gather info on his former village on his own and now the last person left who had mattered to him was dead. Chiyo had lost his love for condemning her own great-grandchild to a life of misery (he couldn't even try to stop that), his beloved Karura had died in childbirth (partially his fault, partially Takeo's because of his damn idea to seal Shukaku), Yashamaru had killed himself (okay, that probably would have happened anyway since that man had never been all that stable since his sister had died), and now his only child was dead (his fault, should have known better than to trust Yashamaru to do the intelligent thing and disobey his leader).

Sasori carried Gaara over to his workshop. It was mostly dedicated to his puppets, but the puppet master had dedicated part of it to preparing corpses for burial. He had needed a way to survive while he stayed in his former village, so he had decided to exploit the violent neighborhood without going into any of the more shady businesses. Sasori never would have guessed that he would ever need to handle his own son's dead body, but at least he had all of the materials he needed at the ready.

After cradling Gaara in his arms for a few moments, Sasori spread the body out on the long table in the center of his workspace. The child was so tiny and delicate, he looked even more fragile than his mother had after her life had slipped away. It was hardly surprising that he had been born prematurely. Unfortunately, he had died prematurely as well. It was amazing how much heartache the foolish decisions of a single man could cause.

After easing himself out of Hiruko, Sasori stood with his hands positioned over Gaara's motionless chest. The child looked an awful lot like him, Sasori mused. They had the same delicate build and that same empty, broken look that came from a void in the heart that was never quite filled. Sasori prepared to reincarnate the child before stopping suddenly. He couldn't do this. Assuming the jutsu actually worked (he had never actually seen it performed all the way through before), what right did he have to tear the child away from his mother again? Worse, what if the boy actually needed Shukaku to live now? Nobody had ever tried to resurrect a host before. Since the boy's chakra coils had been stretched to accommodate Shukaku, it was quite possible that the boy would either die or be in excruciating pain if he was brought back. And he would be all alone again. It was clear that Takeo was more than willing to kill Gaara off. If the jutsu did work correctly, it would still kill Sasori, leaving behind a terrified, heartbroken, and defenseless six year old to fend for himself. And that's without considering what the villagers would do! No, Sasori couldn't do this.

Sasori regretfully began to prepare the chemicals he would need to prepare Gaara for a proper burial. If nothing else, he could at least help his son in death like he had been incapable of doing in life. Yet, if Sasori was so set in his resolve, why then was he shaking? Why did he feel like collapsing into a puddle of tears even though he had long since removed his tear ducts as well as the rest of his human body save for his aching heart?

—-

Takeo stood by the open grave, tapping his foot impatiently as he waited for the boy's body to be delivered. It was bad enough he had watched one of the last remnants of his wife die. Now even the body of what she had died to create was nowhere to be found. So much for a keen eye for value. Takeo hadn't even valued the boy's brief life as much as he should have and now his death seemed far less valuable than he had ever imagined. Good thing he hadn't brought Temari and Kankuro with him to the funeral. He would have enough trouble explaining all of this to them without this mess complicating things.

At long last, a hunched figure appeared in the distance, lugging a small coffin behind him using that metallic tail of his. By the time the man had reached the graveside, Takeo had noticed that the coffin was of excellent quality and firmly sealed. The man had arrived late, but at least he had performed his job properly. Takeo gently lowered the coffin into the grave using his gold dust, leaving behind a few specks of it. Then, he tossed in Yashamaru's headband before beginning the sweaty work of shoveling sand back on top of the grave. To the kazekage's surprise, the man next to him began shoveling in sand as well. Usually only friends and family members took part in this task, but Takeo was grateful for the help. Gaara hadn't really had friends in life, but at least now someone was kind enough to treat him like a fellow human being for once.

With the burial complete, the two knelt side by side to mourn. Takeo delivered a speech about how he with Gaara's life had been longer and happier before preparing to leave. Before he could even stand up, he realized that the man next to him was giving a small speech of is own about the value of children and eternal love. Before Takeo could comment on the unexpected kindness, the man stood up and asked him a single question that felt like a stab in the gut.

"Do you even regret his death at all?"

"Of course I do! I had to put the village's needs before his, but that doesn't mean I'm happy he's dead. Watching my wife die was awful enough, but this almost feels worse. I bet that Karura probably wants to tear me to shreds right now. Don't you know anything about how much fathers care about their children?"

"Yes. I had a kid once. His mother, the only woman I have ever loved, died giving birth to him. I never really got the chance to tell either my son or the love of my life how I felt before they died. Unfortunately, you seem to have repeated my mistakes."

Takeo glared icy daggers at the man. How could he possibly understand what he was going through right now? Similar events or not, he was certain that his wife's death had been far more devastating because it had been in vain. A shame. A waste. A wound in his heart that gaped open to this day. Without another word, Takeo left.

—-

Sasori watched the kazekage leave. Once he was certain that he was no longer being watched, Sasori pulled out a psi of flowers from beneath his cloak. He placed on of them on his son's grave and the other on Karura's before kneeling down once more. Knowing his rotten luck, someone would probably deface Gaara's grave at some point. Not tonight though. Tonight, Sasori would make sure no more harm would befall his loved ones on his watch. Sasori's wooden shoulders began to shake as tearless sobs tore their way out of his throat.

"Karura, Gaara, my precious ones, I am so sorry. I have failed you. But know that this will always be true: if there is only one thing in this world that is eternal it is my endless love for the two of you."


End file.
